Aunt Stacy strode up to front desk and said something he couldn’t make out. The receptionist nodded and pointed down a long hallway. "Follow me, dea....” He followed, overwhelmed with curiosity. Aunt Stacy pulled open a large door leading to a ballroom adorned with paintings similar to the ones he had seen earlier. In the center of the room there was a large, red oak table. Six women were sitting around it. “Do take a seat,” the woman at the head of the table said. His Aunt sat down, and he sat. And you need to get cleaned up before your mother comes home.” “Yes, teacher.” And we both reluctantly got out of bed and started cleaning up. I wanted to jump in the shower with her. God, how I wanted that. But I could already see the discomfort she was in as we started moving around, she was likely to be sore for a few days, and I knew better. As long as no one found out, there would be time for that later. At the doorway we kissed once more. “Thank you, teacher.” She said, softly. I picked. More

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